


Disordered Cruelty

by Sessarin



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gore, Vomiting, not my OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sessarin/pseuds/Sessarin
Summary: Someone talking about an angst scenario involving one of their characters and Valdemar got me itching to write it. So it's Loki's aka Trickisms apprentice Calesius being tortured by Valdemar. Enjoy?TW: Gore, Vomiting/Vomit





	Disordered Cruelty

**Author's Note:**

> Someone talking about an angst scenario involving one of their characters and Valdemar got me itching to write it. So it's Loki's aka Trickisms apprentice Calesius being tortured by Valdemar. Enjoy?  
> TW: Gore, Vomiting/Vomit

They had never seen anything like it before. It had been so quick – a flicker, really – but they were sure that the young magicians eyes had flashed gold. Soft, almost subtle, but surely they had been... glowing.

“How interesting,” Valdemar murmured quietly, steepling their fingers before them.

The young magician had closed his eyes and drawn a deep breath in before fixing a glare on Vulgora, “We don't know what really happened in that wing. You can't just condemn someone based on assumptions.”

Vulgora snapped their gauntleted fingers at the young magician, “It's _obvious_ what happened. Little worm, you're just in denial! Or are you trying to squirm your way of the job you've been hired for?” Vulgora jabbed their hand towards Calesius, their pointed finger mere inches from his eyes. “Because if that's the case, I can't wait to see you and the doctor dangling from the stocks.”

Calesius smacked Vulgora's intruding hand away as sparks flickered at his finger tips, “I was hired to  _investigate_ what happened and I am doing just that.”

As the magician moved, Valdemar watched with interest as the glow began to pick up once more. Was a trick of the mind? Or was the sun hitting against the magicians face just right? But as Calesius stepped back from Vulgora and into the shadows, Valdemar ran a thumb along their jaw and stifled a grin.

The sunlight barely reached the magician from where he stood and yet... the soft glow flickered steadily like dying flames.

_How very interesting. Just how and why does that happen?_

*`*`*

The sounds of the palace had settled down as the residents withdrew to their chambers leaving only the servants to skitter about in the setting night.

But Valdemar found their feet had brought to them to the garden. Gliding effortlessly through the paths, their mind replayed the evening where curious eyes had erupted into a fierce glow after Vlastomil carelessly announced his intention to get the doctor hung regardless of evidence.

If they were one for poetry, Valdemar would've compared the sight to two new suns coming to life. But they were not and so settled for digging their nails into their palms. Oh what they wouldn't give to carve those eyes from the magicians face.

“Would they bleed gold too?” they mused, rounding the path that led to the fountain.

But- oh? There, seated at the edge of the fountain peering into the water, was the magician who had enraptured their thoughts. Alone. Unaware.

Valdemar's eyes dropped to a large stone on the path, their tongue pressing excitedly against their teeth.

*`*`*

He'd been heavier than they thought. Unexpected but they'd made do as usual. Though, admittedly, dragging the unconscious form meant having to go back to clean up the blood that had leaked from the young mans head. Disappointingly red but at least the magicians clothes had made wonderful cleaning rags. Perhaps magic had been woven in with the threads? Regardless, not a drop of the mundane red was left behind.

They... wanted time with him. Just enough for some answers. If there was no trail? Well it would certainly grant more time.

Valdemar traced a gloved hand along the young mans spine. Some slight gashes had accumulated and ruined such a perfectly good canvas. In areas, they could see where the skin had already begun bruising. Maybe they _should_ have found another means of transporting him after all. But they could cut those pieces out later.

_Or now._

The scalpel pressed against the skin for a fraction of a second before they pulled it away, scoffing quietly, “No. Not now.” They needed him awake. They needed their answers first and then they could decorate him later. They could wait. They were very good at waiting.

*`*`*

“Chatty, chatty, _chatty,_ ” Valdemar sighed as they picked through a pile of leather strips. “Too easy to break your jaw. But... Very tempting.”

Calesius let out a string of curses as he thrashed against the bindings, “ _Let me go_.”

“But I went through to much trouble. Shush now,” Valdemar cooed returning to the autopsy table with a long, thick strip in hand. “So much trouble. Oh... But not really. Still, be quiet.” They forced the strip into the young mans mouth, wrapping it around his head and tying it tight, “You can bite that if it gets to be...too much.”

His eyes were already flashing gold as Valdemar picked up a scalpel and inspected it in the dim light. So was it fear then that made this happen? Or was there something else inside?

Calesius's scream still emitted loudly through the gag, streaks of spit beginning to appear at the corners of his mouth. His eyes fixed themselves on Valdemar's face with such an intensity of hate they felt an intoxicating shiver ripple through them. But those eyes? They had been glowing before but now they were simply blinding.

“Is it really only your eyes?” Valdemar gripped the sides of the incision that now ran the length of the mans abdomen and pried open to peer inside, “I was disappointed you didn't bleed gold, I'll admit. Maybe... I'll find something inside?” Pulling back, they pulled out the surgical scissors and pressed them to the top of the incision.

They could smell the slight stench of vomit as Calesius thrashed against his bindings. The movement, though small, was enough to mess up the horizontal cuts at the top of the incision. No longer a straight line at the top of a straight line. The surgical scissors snipped audibly as they considered correcting it, making it perfect like the rest of their work. But... that would take more time.

“For that, you may swallow your own bile.” Valdemar dropped their gaze to the young mans face at his gargling snarl, “Or you can choke. Take your pick.”

Valdemar resumed their work, pulling the imperfect flaps back and pinning them into the young mans sides to reveal his ribcage.

White bone protecting frantically heaving, pink lungs. Boring. Plain. Absent of gold. What a pity.

Valdemar pressed their hand against the bone and pressed down, “Would pain make these change colors? If I broke them into pieces?”

The stench of vomit grew stronger as the magician gagged against the leather strip. Valdemar found themselves watching with morbid curiosity as the young mans throat bobbed, presumably swallowing the bile, while some trickled from the corners of his mouth.

“Good boy. Now... Let's see what else we can do, shall we?”

*`*`*

The intestines felt no different than any others they had held before. Even through their gloves, they could feel the spastic twitching and, sadly, nothing else. Very normal. Very disappointing.

Valdemar looked to the magicians face. It had gone pale and various tracks of tears decorated it as new ones appeared from the now dull eyes.

But he was still alive. A testament, truly, to Valdemar's exceptional abilities.

Valdemar found their attention to be waning. With every test, they found no answers. Just more bloodied tools and frustration. Though there was one thing...

They carelessly dropped the intestines back inside the magician and strode to the nearby shelves. Plucking a red jar from the shelf, they gave it a shake and watched as the multitudes of of scarab bodies clambered over one another in response. When they turned to face the magician again, it was to see the eyes glowing brilliant again.

“Fear elicits such a consistent result from you,” Valdemar mused, returning to the magicians side and unscrewing the jar. “But it _doesn't_ explain anything.” They pulled a scarab out and tossed it into their mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “If they were to eat you... and I them... Tell me, would my eyes glow?”

Calesius pulled at the bindings in vain as a very muffled “please” choked out from behind the gag.

Valdemar's eyes twinkled, “You're right. Let's find out.”

And they tipped the jar, emptying the contents inside of the magician where the scarabs scattered in between the organs.

The magicians body arched as well as it could and a high pitched whine came from behind the gag.

“How different is the pain from the insides, Calesius?” Valdemar plucked up a scalpel and used it to nudge a beetle towards the frantic lungs. “I almost envy you.”

*`*`*

_Disappointing._

For a moment, Valdemar thought they had something as sparks coursed through the magicians body and his eyes had reached new levels of light. But then his little friends had shown up. Tearing down the steps, it wasn't hard to hear them coming and all that much easier for Valdemar to slip away into one of the many passages only their mind knew of.

Now more than ever, Valdemar wanted Julian to hang. Only that little annoyance would have known the way in. But if the rest were to hang too?

“Maybe one day. But, for now?”

Valdemar glanced down at the fed scarab in their hand. They still had one more test to do.

 


End file.
